Lilith Enraptured (Divinity Warriors 1)

by Pillow Michelle M.

  Her legs swayed and the natural rocking of her body hit against his already strained cock. Traveling up would be torture, but he was loath to put her down. Sorin pulled her closer, wishing she’d wrap her legs around his waist.

  Lilith held on to his shoulders, gripping tight. He kissed her harder. She moved her lips, but her tongue didn’t delve into his mouth. He sucked, trying to draw it forward to explore and taste.

  Soft globes rubbed his chest through the material of their clothes. He needed to feel them. Quickening his pace, he carried her up the tower stairs. Her grip tightened, her legs pulling strangely to the sides as if looking for hold on the stone walls.

  Nearing the halfway point, he stopped. Her nearness was agony. He couldn’t wait. Later he would take her in a bed, but for now the privacy of the stairs would have to do.

  Lilith’s feet hit the floor and she swayed weakly, her knees giving out before she could catch herself. Sorin held her arm, keeping her from falling. “No one will happen upon us here, my lady.”

  * * * * *

  Here?

  Lilith gulped. Already she knew she had made a grave mistake in going to him. She was out of her league. At least in a bed she knew she’d had a little practice to back up her meager skills as a lover.

  Sorin’s intensity frightened her. Just the size of him, without the piercing force of his dark brown eyes, made her quiver. But when he stared at her, with the unmistakable look of a predator about to devour prey, she nearly fainted.

  Sorin leaned in to her and Lilith leaned away. He stalked her until she sat on a step, perched along the uncomfortable ledge. How in the world did he plan on making this work? He braced an arm beside her, trapping her beneath with little air separating their bodies.

  Sorin reached for her, touching her hair. The dark tan of his flesh contrasted the blonde. He fingered the strands, gripping them so that the roots pulled slightly. It didn’t hurt, but she wondered at the greedy way he licked his lips.

  The waves of his hair framed his face. Now that she could see him in finer detail, she noticed the scars that ran along his neck. One began at an ear and sliced down, just missing a vital artery. Another started at the base of his throat and disappeared beneath the neckline of his tunic.

  Her breath caught, a phenomenon that seemed to happen a lot when she was around him. His hand left her hair for her chin, continuing downward, over her neck to glide over the material of her borrowed tunic.

  To her surprise, when he reached a breast, his touch turned caressing and gentle. A light moan left his parted lips. A trail worked down her breast to the blazing heat of her sex. If he kept touching her like that, she wouldn’t be able to control herself.

  Lilith tilted her head back, closing her eyes. But as suddenly as the slow seduction started, it ended. Sorin’s hand became firm, squeezing harder before letting go to unfasten her belt. A leg bumped into hers, and she opened her eyes to find him fumbling with the laces to his pants. He’d pulled his tunic aside, which revealed the unmistakable strength of his arousal beneath the barrier of clothing.

  Harsh pants of air washed over her, zealous in Sorin’s eagerness. Unsure of what to do, she began to back away. This wasn’t what she imagined. The whole scene had been planned out in her mind. She’d go down and get him to come back up. She’d “please” him—in a bed—so he wouldn’t be tempted to kill her. Then that would be that. Nowhere did her plan allow for passion-induced, near-crazed warrior man with a formidable weapon taking her on the uncomfortable stairwell with people milling just feet away.

  “Pull up your skirts,” Sorin ordered, his voice hoarse.

  Lilith acted on instinct. Though every nerve inside her pussy yelled and screamed for him to touch it. Her confused, out-of-depth mind revolted. She needed to regroup and come up with a new plan. Oh, why hadn’t she run away with Jayne?

  Run away. Good plan.

  Lilith turned, intent on running up the stairs until she could get her overheated body under control. Sorin’s nearness only caused confusion and chaos. When he kissed her, she couldn’t think straight. If she couldn’t think straight, how was she to make sure she was any good in bed and thus avoid the whole “dead” scenario?

  “Mm, yea, my clever lady,” Sorin groaned in approval. He grabbed her hips before she could fully stand. Now her back was to him and she couldn’t see what he was doing. “It will be easier to take you like this.”

  Lilith’s fingers worked against the rough texture of the stone. His warm hand slid up her leg, boldly moving up her outer thigh. Emotions waged a confused battle over her. She wanted him. She’d just met him. It felt really good when he touched her like that. This wasn’t logical or considered. This had to stop. She needed to think. What was she doing here? One little mistake on the job would not warrant banishment. But if it did? What would she do? What if she couldn’t find a way home? And did he have to grab her ass like that?

  The cool air of the stairwell hit her flesh as he bared her from behind. Lilith made a weak noise, the sound somewhere between panic and pleasure. Callused hands, strong and sure, explored at will. Fingers ran up her spine and down her ribs, teasing the sides of her breasts.

  The bittersweet ache of his touch filled her, concentrating every part of her being on the needy ache in her sex. She closed her eyes tight, remembering the size of him, how rough he could be when he kissed her, held her. He touched her pussy and she jerked, knowing he found the betraying wetness of her arousal. A low, dangerous groan left him, loud and echoing against the stone.

  Lilith opened her mouth to speak, unsure whether the words would be a protest or approval. His cock had been as large as him as she’d watched him pleasure himself. How did they get like this? She couldn’t see his eyes. She wanted to see his eyes. What was he thinking? What was he looking at? What was he…?

  And then it happened—an incredibly thick pressure, entering, probing. She couldn’t help herself as she yelped in surprise, jerking away from him before his cock made it more than a half inch past the entrance. Lilith reached for the next step, ready to scurry away and regroup. Sorin’s hold on her hips stopped her.

  He brushed her again, his cock glancing along her inner thigh. Lilith tensed.

  I want this. I can’t want this. I want this. I can’t want this. Oh please, don’t hurt me.

  For a long time his fingers worked, clenching and unclenching against her hips. She stayed rigid, waiting, anticipating, over-thinking every second. Her hand clutched the step, working violently into the hard stone.

  “You act as if you don’t want this.” Sorin’s words were low, harsh and unmistakably upset.

  “No,” she answered, trying to form a complete thought.

  “No? Then why did you beckon me to you? Why did you summon me from the hall and put your lips to mine?” His grip tightened, painful now.

  “Please,” she begged. “I don’t want to die.”

  “Die?” This time he let go. Without his support, Lilith fell against the steps. All too aware of her naked ass hanging out for him to see, she pushed frantically at her clothes to cover it. “Did the Divinity leaders tell you they would kill you if you didn’t come here?”

  “They didn’t say anything,” she answered, unsure if she should be pleased he finally seemed to listen to her about her erroneous presence.

  “Then why would you die?” Sorin wasn’t so modest as to cover himself. His pants clung to his large thighs, held up only by the sheer breadth of his muscles. The tunic had been pushed aside, catching now on the incredibly erect length of his cock.

  “Because if I don’t please you, you’ll kill me like your last lover,” she blurted, instantly wishing she could take it back.

  Sorin’s eyes darkened as he narrowed them in rage. A ripple washed over him, stiffening every muscle. Lilith cowered on the steps, trying to press her body into them until she faded into the hard stone. His chest rose and fell, panting heavily, and his fists clenched at his sides as if any second he could tear her ap
art.

  “Who told you of Bianka?” he demanded.

  Lilith shivered violently, managing a small shake of her head. No words would come out of her mouth.

  “Argh!” He slammed his hand into the wall, and she screamed. Lilith backed away from him, knowing that the tower would only trap her, but unwilling to try to push past him. When he didn’t stop her, she turned and ran, stumbling as her legs tangled in the skirt of her tunic.

  Reaching his bedchamber door, she pushed inside and slammed it shut, not stopping until she was blockaded inside her new room with the vanity pushed tight against the door. Light from the open bathroom wall shone over the room, helping her to see as she made her way over to burrow under the covers. Turning her eyes to watch the bedroom door, Lilith doubted the barricade would keep him out if he wanted to get in, but the furniture line of defense gave her a small measure of comfort.

  * * * * *

  Sorin glared at his erection, hating that he still wanted Lady Lilith even after her words. A tiny voice whispered to take her anyway, to not stop. It was his right, after all. He couldn’t. He was not the monster she thought him to be.

  How did she know about Bianka or her death? Apparently, the servants gossiped and the fact only served to fuel his rage. He had ordered all talk of his late wife to cease. If he could have, he would have ordered all thoughts of her erased from the minds of Starian society.

  How dare Lilith come to him like that? How dare she kiss him, let him kiss her? And how dare she show him her perfect ass, so smooth and unflawed, so unlike the hard scar-riddled length of his body. But, most of all, how dare she give him a glimpse of happiness only to rip it away?

  Sorin braced his hand on the wall and gripped his cock hard, pouring all his anger into the yanking thrusts of his tight fist. She didn’t want him. That much was clear. She only came to him because she thought he’d kill her if she didn’t. Death or his bed? Those were the choices she believed she had?

  And kill her? Kill her?! What was he? A dishonorable brute? A mindless Caniba? A beast who raped and pillaged? The insult cut deeply into his pride. Why did the gods of war curse him? He did all they demanded of him. He went into battle without hesitancy. He lived by the sword.

  Sorin found no pleasure in the act of release, only a bitterness that was hard to contain. His seed spilled onto the steps but he didn’t care. Twice he’d been cursed. The first was a cuckolding witch and the second was so afraid he might her hurt that she served herself up like a sacrifice.

  Sorin tugged on his clothes, knotting the laces in his haste to be away from the Black Tower, from Battlewar Castle. He couldn’t run away, the last shreds of his tattered pride wouldn’t let him. Without cause, he couldn’t go. Not yet.

  “By all the fires of the afterlife, by the will of the gods, please bring Staria a great battle. Call me away from this place. I beg of you.”

  Chapter Six

  Perhaps all his years at the sword did not go completely unnoticed by the eyes of the gods. Sorin jarred against the back of his horse, feeling the pounding beat of the large animal’s hooves carrying him away from Battlewar’s outer wall. The familiar creak sounded behind him as sentinels lowered the large wood-and-iron gate. The heavy weight of it made for a slow decent, but in time of attack, if the rope were cut as a man rode under, it would impale him and his horse under the deadly weight of the reinforced metal crossbars. Everything about Battlewar Castle had been designed for war, just like everything else in their land—from the long battlements that stretched around the main castle and Battlewar Town to the secret passages and underground escape routes.

  Lady Jayne had disappeared from the castle and, after an extensive search of the grounds, it was decided two small groups of knights would ride after the escaped woman. The others headed north to search for a trail, though it seemed unlikely she’d choose that treacherous route. Already word spread through the town in the outer bailey, and all the residents of Battlewar Town would be on the lookout if she hid within the city walls. Lucky for them, she did not know of the tunnels leading from the castle to outside the walls or how to reach them. It made their search easier. Ronen barely spoke as they looked, but to utter quietly, “My wife has run away. The gods truly frown upon me.”

  The full moon shone bright over the prairie grasses, giving the knights enough to see by as they rode hard over the fields. Sorin felt sorry for his brother, but couldn’t help the selfish relief that he had an excuse to run away from his own torment. As the head of his family, capturing Lady Jayne demanded his attention. He had to go. They would find the woman, Sorin had no doubts about that. Many of the knights trained at Battlewar in their youth, and this prairie and the surrounding forests were extensions of that very education.

  The wind hit hard upon his face, whipping Sorin’s hair back. Once they crossed the prairie they would spread out into the forest, searching for a sign of her passing. She couldn’t have gone far on foot, and most likely her screams would alert the men to her whereabouts. No matter how much or how little Divinity told them, these otherworlders didn’t know this land or the dangers that waited in the forest at night.

  Ronen rode beside him. Sorin lifted his hand. The trees were near and the ground more treacherous. The small contingency of knights slowed. Pointing first to the east and then to the west, he soundlessly ordered the men to spread out and begin their search. When they were alone, Ronen said, “She does not know what she faces, even with my knife to arm her.”

  “The forest at night can be a daunting thing,” Sorin comforted. “Rest assured in that we are far away from the battlefront. The Caniba tribes will not have ventured this far. One look at a wild beast and she’ll scream for us to save her.”

  “Let’s ride,” Ronen urged, nudging his horse toward the trees. He pulled his sword from his side, gripping it tight. Sorin followed, veering to the right as they spread out. Each man would remain within whistling distance should the lady be found.

  “Keep the lady safe,” Sorin whispered to the trees, “but don’t let us find her too close to the castle. Let her lead us far away from here.”

  * * * * *

  “He left me?” Lilith frowned, knowing she had no right or reason to be shocked at Sera’s grumpy news. The servant glared at her, only taking her hateful eyes off Lilith long enough to glance at the dislodged furniture barrier and trail of trinkets that had fallen off the top when Lilith moved it to the door.

  “You’re surprised, my lady?” Sera demanded. “Did you expect him to stay when you bar him from your chambers like some kind of—?”

  “Of what?” Lilith snapped. Late morning shone through the slit window, lighting the room in a softened glow. The night had been long and dark, as Lilith hovered beneath the covers. Several times she’d dozed, but never for long. Lack of rest made her waspish, and Sera’s accusing tone only added to her ill temper. “Like some kind of sane person? You might like to sleep with complete strangers because they picked you out of the lineup, but I actually prefer to know the person. Maybe go out on a date. Have a conversation beyond, ‘Take up your skirts for I will do you now’.”

  Sera gasped, her mouth hanging open. She sputtered before finally managing, “You would question the will of the gods?”

  “Sorin is not a god,” Lilith assured the woman, jerking at the long sleeve of the black tunic. It unrolled in the night and now hampered her fingers. “Trust me. Everywhere I go, there is some man claiming to be a god.”

  “No, Lord Sorin is a man of flesh and blood, but the gods choose you for him. You are his reward for great service in battle.” Sera searched her face, as if she were a fool not to know about their gods and customs. “Men have needs, especially Starian men. They need passion for it keeps them strong in horrific times. Women are the vessel for release, a means to have children. That is our role. That is our duty. In return, we are protected and provided for.”

  “What of love?” Lilith asked, almost feeling sorry for the woman. She ran her fingers along
the back of the cushioned chair. The small, fine stitching had been done by hand.

  “What of it?” Sera waved her hand in dismissal of the idea. “Should you come to care deeply for him that is up to you, but I would not encourage such affections. It makes losing them in battle harder. Do not expect tenderness or dwell on romantic emotions. It is not in their nature. It goes against everything they’ve been taught. They will care for you in their way and it is enough.”

  Enough? A life of mutual convenience was enough for these people? No love?

  How tragic.

  “You are lucky for your husband’s station will provide better than others. You do not have to work. It’s not so unreasonable a trade.” Sera’s first irritation lessened, though now she sounded a little annoyed.

  “Husband?” Lilith weakened and she barely managed to fall into the chair. “Did you just say he’s my… No, that can’t be right. No one said anything about getting married. I sure as sunshine would have remembered hearing about that little gem. They said lover and I believe mate was used, but… No.”

  “Husband, breeding partner, mate, lover, master…” Sera picked up a few of the fallen boxes and bottles and piled them on the bed before going to push at the vanity. Between shoves, she added, “Call it what you will, it all amounts to the same thing. The ceremony is done and you belong to him. He chose you.”

  The woman had to be wrong. Maybe Sera didn’t understand what she was talking about, or perhaps the word “husband” had a different meaning on this dimension. Lilith had run into such confusions before. Language tended to be the same, but it never evolved exactly on each plane. In some cases, a single word could take on a whole new social connotation. Maybe when they said “husband”, they meant “man you were partnered up with until he got tired of you and decided to get rid of you".